This is the autobiographical narrative written by our mother Ruby Marshall Campbell about two years before her death on September 27, 1957. She, more than any other member of the Marshall family, had kept in contact with other members and kept up a voluminous correspondence with many of them. After her death, it was our father who made an attempt to keep going this contact, and in so doing was kept so busy that it helped to make him forget his sorrow.
This is written in exactly the same way that she had written it in a loose leaf note book. No attempt has been made to change the phraseology in any way.
After mother died, our father was convinced that he should also write about his life. This he did in a very legible long hand on a closely lined paper. His writing was an unhurried and as meticulous in detail as has been his many thoughts and decisions through the years. His wonderful memory for detail is shown in the recital from memory of his trip to California in 1921.
We are sure that these stories, written mostly for their children and progeny will interest most those for which it was written. There will be others who will be interested by the contact and reference to their lives.
We hope, however, that those interested in genealogy will also find the accurate family history of value. As can be seen, this has been important to both of our parents.
Franklin Campbell, MD
Copied from a newspaper clipping, author unknown: Clipping sent to me by Cousin Sallie Wade - years following 1860. "Aunt Polly Hogue, one of the oldest citizens of Obion County, died last Thursday and was buried Friday afternoon. Aunt Polly was among the last of the pioneers of our county who came here when the cane, the turkey, the wolf, the bear and the Indian prowled and roved in unrestrained freedom. A generation that had been mostly for a quarter of a century sleeping in their graves. Aunt Polly was born in Lancaster County, South Carolina, July 12, 1812 and with her mother Mrs. Susana Harper and a company of forty-seven persons left S. Carolina in the fall of 1824 and arrived in Obion County, Tennessee, January 1825. Aunt Polly was the only surviving member of this party of forty-seven. In this little group were names that afterwards became famous in Obion County and whose descendants are among our best and noblest people: Ben K. Harper, Johnson Harper, Jimmie Harper, William and Jane Hutchinson.
They came to the Obion River. There was of course no bridge. The point was where Wallace's old mill was constructed near Rives, Tenn. They took their bed cords, lashed timbers together, made a pontoon or raft and crossed their wagons and teams on it. The company camped for two weeks which they and their children and children's children are noted, they did not idle away these two weeks. The men were looking around for lands to enter. The women were busy carding wool on the shares that had been secured from the few surrounding farmers.
The widow Rosana Harper located on the place near where her grandson James H. Hogue now lives. She (Rosana Harper) entered a large tract of land on the very spot where aunt Polly was buried last Friday. They camped there all spring and summer and until a house was constructed late in the fall. The work horses did not have a grain of corn until fall. They were turned out every night and lived on the cane and wild pea vines that fairly matted and enmeshed the whole land. The camp was pitched on the base of a hill, near was a spring, many years since gone dry. Great clouds of mosquitoes filled the air in the branch valleys and rendered life a burden to the early settlers. Just beyond on the opposite hill, William and Jane Hutchinson built a new home now known as the Shearon Place.
Aunt Polly slept in the wagon from the time they started until the crop was harvested and the home constructed a year later. A short while after the building was finished a little daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Wm. Hutchinson who was visiting at Mrs. Harper's, fell in the fire where some trash was burning in the yard. The child expired in great agony and was buried where the camp had been all spring and summer. This was the first funeral at the Harper Cemetery, and was indeed a sad and distressing occasion. Mrs. Harper's boys cleared a few acres of land and raised a crop of corn. They killed boar, turkeys, squirrels and deer for their meat.
Aunt Polly, ten years later, when she was twenty-four was united in marriage to James B. Hogue who took her to Oxford, Miss. They lived there until 1860. Mr. Hogue having died about seven years previous to that time. Aunt Polly was the mother of four children: William G., James H., Mrs. William J. King; and one having died in childhood.
Aunt Polly professed religion in 1861 during a revival at the C. P. Church conducted by Rev. J. B. Calhoun in the frame building, predecessor of the present brick. Brother Calhoun had preached on sin and had noticed that Sister Hogue was deeply interested. On Sunday night, he took as his text that familiar and yet ever beautiful passage, "What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul." At the close of the service, Aunt Polly responded to the message and soon joined the church.
Aunt Polly spent the remaining years of her life with her beloved and only daughter, Mrs. Rose King near Troy. Rev. T. P. Pressley conducted services at her death. Aunt Polly is at rest!
This is a copy of the obituary of Ben K. Harper, a brother of my grandfather, James Franklin Harper, MD author unknown. Copied by me, Ruby Alice Campbell, for my son and namesake of his grandfather, James Franklin Campbell, MD: "Ben K. Harper was born July 31, 1812, in South Carolina. Died at his residence aged about seventy-seven. Uncle Ben's father, James K. Harper, moved to Obion County, Tenn., when it was savage wilderness. The whole face of the county was covered with dense and almost impenetrable cane thickets. In February, 1825, the family moved from York County, South Carolina. They were nine weeks on the journey and struck the Obion River where Adams Ferry now is (this account is slightly different from one found elsewhere - anyway they made it across). They swam the horses across and pulled the wagons by means of rawhide cords.
Jimmie (James K.) Harper assisted by his boys, including Ben, who was a stout lad, hewed out a road to Troy and settled on a small clearing near where J. H. Hogue now lives. Uncle Ben helped chop down the big trees on what is now Public Square of Troy.
Uncle Ben was a great hunter. He was versed in the secrets of woodlore and understood the nature of wild things. He married Miss Margaret Smith, daughter of Joseph Smith, and reared a family of sons and daughters, who are among the most honored citizens of the county; to wit, Joseph, John, Frank and James. Mrs. Gardner of Union City, Mrs. John Head, Mrs. Wilfred Faris and Mrs. Kye Wade. Uncle Ben was for many years a ruling elder of the Seceder Church. In later years, he spent his Sabbaths at home reading his Bible, and Matthew Henry's exposition of it. Uncle Ben was confined to his home because of chronic sore leg. He was buried Sunday at Pleasant Hill. Father Weed holding services at the family home."
Uncle Ben's sore leg was caused by a burn. He with other men was driving hogs to Memphis to be shipped to New Orleans. His leg was burned in the camp fire. Sally never saw him off the bed. His leg was so drawn that when he died, the tendons in the back of the leg had to be cut, in order that the leg could be straightened, so the lid could be put on the casket.
Margaret Smith Harper's father lived in South Carolina. A Joseph Smith, her brother, was a saddle maker and lived with her and Ben K. Harper. He was born February 5, 1809. Died September 11, 1834.
Additional notes in reference to Ben K. and Martha Johnson Harper May 3, 1955: signed, Ruby Alice Campbell.
On the banks of the Calawba River in York County, South Carolina, in the year 1824, possibly during Christmas week, a pioneer train was formed. It was customary for these wagon trains to appoint a leader. James K. Harper was appointed. There was an aggregate of forty-three souls, white and black. Some of the names pertinent to this history were Samuel Hutchinson, son-in-law to James K. Harper. Mrs. Rosana Harper and her son-in-law William Hutchinson, with their families.
The objective of this train was some place in what was then known as Forked Deer Country in west Tennessee. Memphis was then known as Chicasaw Bluff. They settled in Obion County, which had been organized in 1823. In 1825 James Harper and the caravan arrived in Obion county. It is said that James Harper built the first church, the first school and the first jail in Obion County.
The slaves who accompanied James K. Harper built for him and his family a large and comfortable log cabin. The children of James K. and Nancy Harper were respectively; Robert, Johnson, Ben, William, Mary Harper Hutchinson, Martha Harper McAlister and James Franklin Harper. The latter was the youngest, if we figure correctly - about six years old at the time of arrival in Obion County.
Of the five brothers, three studied medicine; Dr. Robert, Dr. William and Dr. J. Franklin. Dr. Robert and Dr. William practiced both in Tennessee and Arkansas. Ben and Johnson were farmers. In the fall of 1832 a church building was established. Two slaves of the James K. Harper estate sawed most of the lumber with a whip saw. Among the first elders in the new church were James K. Harper and Samuel Hutchinson. In Rives, Tenn., at this writing there is an Associate Reformed Presbyterian Church. It is true that this is an out-growth of the church built in 1832 by James K. Harper and his associates.
In a little cemetery, the ground covered with honeysuckle, two miles north of Troy, called the Hogue Cemetery, my husband and I accompanied by Rev. Neil and cousin Martha Wade, read on two grave markers the names:
James K. Harper. Born Apr. 23, 1777. Died Dec. 17, 1830 Nancy Harper wife of James K. Harper. Born July 21st, 1786. Died Dec. 20, 1839
Dr. James Franklin Harper studied Medicine in Memphis Medical School and took post-graduate work at Keokuk, Iowa. He had been born December 24, 1819 in South Carolina and was six years old when his parents moved to Tennessee. His parents died when he was 14 years old. He was reared by his older brothers and studied medicine in the office of his brother. He married Elizabeth Johnson, daughter of a wealthy slave holder, and practiced medicine in Covington, Tenn., until the year 1862, during the war of secession - when with his family of three daughters Margaret, Annette, and Ella, his wife Elizabeth and two colored servants he moved to Clayton, Illinois. A son Walter had died in Tenn. as a small boy. When the slaves had been freed by the Harper Estate, these two chose to accompany "Dr. Jimmie" to the home in the north. They, a man and a woman, died in the employ of Dr. Harper's family and are buried in the family plot in the cemetery at Clayton, Ill.
Dr. Harper moved from Clayton to Elvaston, Illinois, in the early 1870's and later to Elderville, where he died from Pneumonia. He often rode on horseback with saddle-bags when roads were not passable for buggies. On one very inclement night, he called to a country home, riding a horse whose name was Flora - with saddle-bags attached - thrown over Flora's back - one bag on either side. When he came home, he was taken with what was then called a Congestive Chill. He lived only a few days and is buried in the cemetery in Elvaston where he still owned a town block, with the family home built in the middle.
The daughters of Dr. and Mrs. J. F. Harper are these:
I have no family record of my grandmother's family except a half-brother Thomas Davis who was a minister and lived in Lawrence, Kansas. After grandfather's death, she (Mrs. J. F. Harper) came back to the old home in Elvaston where she died at the age of (77) seventy-seven and is buried in the Elvaston Cemetery.
Postscript:
A postscript to the above mentioned life of my grandfather Harper, who was
a traditional country doctor. He was said to be very successful in typhoid
cases, which in the [Eighteen] seventy's were very prevalent. He seldom if ever
sent a bill. He was a better doctor and humanitarian than he was a financier.
Therefore when he died suddenly of Pneumonia he left an estate of one block of
property in Elvaston, Illinois - with a very good and attractive house of seven
rooms - and many bills which were owed by patients, some of which my
grandmother was able to collect.
Dr. Allen Anderson, a brother of Salem Anderson, wrote of my grandfather Harper, wrote of my grandfather after his [Dr. Harper's] death. "Mark the perfect man and behold the upright, for the end of that man is peace."
James Franklin Harper, youngest son of James K. and Nancy Harper was born in York Co. S. Carolina, Dec. 24, 1819. He came with his father and mother, with a wagon train of forty person. There were also six older brothers and sisters. Their destination was the Forked Deer country. In 1825, the caravan arrived in Obion, Tenn. James Franklin's mother died in December, 1839, after which he lived with his older brothers. In the office of Dr. Robert Harper he studied medicine and also studied and attended lectures in Memphis, Tenn.
I have no date of the marriage of Dr. James F. Harper and Elizabeth Johnson, daughter of a rich slave holder and who doubtless gave some financial help to the struggling young physician. I am not sure if this was their first home, but know that they lived in Covington, Tennessee, and that my grandfather practiced medicine there and in surrounding Tipton county for ten years. Covington was a small village consisting of two stores and a carriage shop. Five children were born, two of which died in infancy. The surviving three were Margaret, Martha Annette, and Ella.
My grandfather also lived in Troy, Tennessee in years previous to his moving to Clayton, Ill. in Adams County. Troy was then county seat of Obion Co. At the present writing the county seat is Union City. I mention that Covington, Where Dr. Harper formerly lived, was ten miles from a railroad and twenty-seven miles from Memphis.
The education of daughter Margaret was being considered; she having finished the country schools, it was decided that she should be sent to a young ladies Seminary in Oxford, Ohio. Daughter Margaret was very homesick and I do not know how long she attended the Seminary. At least I think she did not finish.
Editor's Note:
One note states that he and his family lived in Keokuk in 1869 and 1870
while attending the Keokuk Medical School. He had spent a short time prior to
this at Prairie City, Illinois. He had spent the time from 1862 to 1869 in
Clayton, Adams County, Illinois. The remainder of his life was spent in
Elvaston and Elderville, Illinois.
My grandfather William Marshall was born April 5, 1811, in Ashland County, Ohio. He was married February 22, 1838. He died December 28, 1895 in Fountain Green, Illinois, at the home of a daughter, Mellisa Geddis. He was buried in the family lot in Elvaston, Ill., where his youngest daughter Alice and his wife Nancy were also buried.
Nancy Thompson was born in Ohio May 11, 1820. She married my grandfather William Marshall on February 22, 1838, in Ashland, Ohio. She died October 16, 1889 in Elvaston at the age of sixty-nine. She was the daughter of Archibald Thompson. Her mother's maiden name was Martha Fitzsimmons.
This is the story of my paternal grandmother as I know it. In addition to the above information, she had one sister Polly who married a Hardy. Polly may have had other children, but I remember only twin sons. They were the same age as my Uncle Willis and always lived in Ohio. Her brothers, Joseph and William came to Illinois. Joseph lived near Burnside and William near Colusa, Ill. Her other brothers remained in Ohio and the only name I remember is that of John Thompson. Glen Thompson, Nancy's nephew, cousin of my father still lives in Wooster, Ohio.
Nancy reared a family of ten children, one having died in infancy - names will be listed elsewhere. Also in 1877, a little grand-daughter whose mother had died was given to her care. Ruby Alice (the author) was given all of her affection and care until 1882, when her father having married again, this time to Ella May Kirkpatrick. Ruby Alice then went again to her father's home.
Nancy came west to Illinois with husband and family in 1867. She had sent two sons to fight from the Union. One did not return but was buried in the military cemetery in Keokuk, Iowa. One son, Archibald and one daughter were married in Ohio. With the remaining eight children she traveled overland from Haysville, Ohio, to Hamilton, Illinois, where grandfather had bought a home five miles out from Hamilton. He with his family were members of the United Presbyterian Church and this was a church of this denomination in Hamilton. Later a Presbyterian Church was built within one-half mile of my grandfather's home, where all the family attended. The children one by one married and left home. At last, Uncle John, who was farming the homestead, married and left home. My grandparents with the youngest daughter Alice then bought a home in Elvaston, Ill.
They went to live in Elvaston in 1883, approximately. My Aunt Alice, who was to have been married to a Mr. White in Palmyra, Missouri, that same year, contracted spinal meningitis and died after intense suffering. My White was notified immediately but she did not know him or any of us. My grandmother bravely and patiently bore this grief but was not well at the time and soon afterwards was bedridden. She had united with Presbyterian Church USA in Elvaston, but my grandfather who was still a United Presbyterian attended faithfully, but could never leave the church of his earlier years and did not unite with the Elvaston Church.
My grandmother died on October 16, 1889, the only mother I knew for six years: until I was six years old. As we rode to the cemetery, following my grandmother to her last resting place, my grandfather grasped my hand and tearfully said, "You have lost the best friend you have ever had." She was laid beside the much loved daughter, Alice, in the family lot in Elvaston.
Until my mature years, I did not comprehend the responsibility incurred in taking a young child to raise and how much anxiety, patience, faith, and courage were involved.
This is information which I have collected in regard to my father's coming to Illinois from Ohio, probably in 1867 ---
My father's father came to Illinois in 1862, when his son James was injured in the Battle of Shiloh at Pittsburgh Landing, Tennessee. My grandfather, William Marshall, started for Pittsburgh Landing after he received the word that his son had been injured. He started on horseback and after arriving in St. Louis, was notified that his son, who had at first been hospitalized there, had transferred him up the Mississippi River, presumably to the town in Iowa where James had enlisted, being at the time a guest in the home of his uncle, a brother of his father. He had been shot in the leg, and because of exposure, as he lay wounded on the battlefield, his limb had to be amputated on the boat, and the soldier James died and was buried in the military cemetery in Keokuk, Iowa. His father following on horseback, was only permitted to view his son's grave.
In 1867, William Marshall moved with his family to Illinois. It is not known whether because his much loved son was buried in the military cemetery in Keokuk and he felt an urge to be near the spot of his burial, or it was the good black soil of Illinois. He left Ohio for Hamilton, Illinois, which was across the Mississippi River from Keokuk where James was buried. I am told that my grandfather and sons came in a wagon and the mother, Nancy, and daughters came in the family carriage.
Before coming to Illinois, daughter Mary Janet was married to William Karnahan in Ashland County, Ohio. Her husband was a veteran of the Civil War.
Archibald L. served two terms in the war, the first for another man who gave Archibald one thousand dollars to substitute for him, then served, except for fourteen months spent confined in Johnson's Prison, another term. He came home looking like a skeleton and his mother did not know him. The other boys, my father, William Harvey, and Willis D. and John Wallace; the daughters, Martha Jane, Meliss, Lulu, and Alice came overland. Archibald was, with other soldiers, allotted 160 acres of land in Knox County, Missouri, having married Lavenia Iseman in Richland, Ohio. They settled in a farm near Knox City, Mo., and raised a family of five children: May, Grace, Willie, Karl and Neal. At this writing, 1954, May, Willie, and Karl are dead. Grace, aged 82 years, lives with daughter Lucile Williams in Macon, Mo. Neal in his sixties lives in Chicago.
Martha Jane, the oldest of William and Nancy's family, married John McCandless in 1868 after their arrival in Illinois. They lived in Hancock Co. Ill., until 1876 when they moved to Wayne County, Iowa. She died at Mt. Ayr, Ringold Co., Iowa, August 17, 1899, aged 61. There were three children, Will of Mt. Ayr, Charlie of Nampa, Idaho, and Mary Bouquet of Kansas City, Mo., all dead at this writing.
The two children born to William Harvey Marshall and Annette Harper Marshall:
Annette Marshall died December 14, 1877. My father then married Etta May Kirkpatrick in 1882. To this union were born:
I was born in the little cottage one and one-half miles north of Elvaston, Illinois, where my father had bought a farm of 80 acres. The acreage increased in time to 240 acres. I mention this in comparison to the 80 acres and the little cottage which in after years gave way to a large nine room house. I say large, for the rooms both up and downstairs were of generous proportions and housed comfortably the seven children born after me.
On this particular night, the first day of November 1876, the first snow of the season fell. Our neighbors across the way were the Rex Buchanan family. The next day Nellie Buchanan announced at school that a little girl had been left at Harvey Marshall's without any clothes. When the children expressed concern, she, Nellie, explained that the Marshall's had clothes for her. My grandfather Harper was the officiating physician. When I was thirteen months old my mother died after a baby sister had been born prematurely. My mother developed puerperal fever or childbed fever as it was also called in December 14, 1877.
I am told that I first walked on the day of my mother's funeral which was held in the home and my first steps were from the improvised steps, one to the other. To my grieving father came the helpful grandmothers. My grandmother Harper took the little sister, and my grandmother Marshall suggested that my aunt Lulu, then a girl of eighteen, come to our home to care for me and keep company with her lonely brother. She was not conditioned to this, and she became lonely. It was also distressing to her when my little feet continually pattered toward the bedroom where my mother had lain, calling pitifully as I knocked on the door with my tiny hands. It was then decided that Aunt Lulu would go home taking me with her. I lived there until I was six years old in my grandfather's home.
When my Aunt Lulu married to Mr. George Hastings and went with him to Palmyra, Missouri, to live, she begged my father to allow her to take me to live with her, but Missouri was far away and he could not bear to have me that far away. My grandfather's attractive and comfortable home was five miles away and that was far enough away in those days when many families did not have buggies or carriages, but used wagons or rode horseback. From what I have been told, I know that I was a very troublesome child. Our neighbors, the Honces, also had a little girl whose mother had died, and despite all threats, I would run away to the Honces. My father walked up to get me; I suggested to Ettie, as we were playing upstairs, that we hide under the bed. I thought Anna, the daughter of the house, would not have the heart to pull me out from under the bed. But I was mistaken as she reached under the bed and I was soon out, trotting in front of my father, as he followed with a little switch, tapping my bare legs when my feet lagged.
In those days, young ladies wore quite a lot of jewelry. My Auntie kept hers in reaching distance of little hands. One day Ettie and I were playing at dressing up. I bedecked myself with said jewelry, then still in the dress up clothes we went to play in the wheat bin. I lost some of the jewelry which was never recovered. Another escapade which I dimly remember, others repeated the story, and now I tell it perhaps for the last time. Being a busy child and finding a bean in my hand, I promptly inserted the bean in my nostril. When I saw that I could not remove it, I cried hysterically. My Auntie failing also, rang the dinner bell for my Uncle who was working nearby. Thinking of the open well where water was drawn with a bucket, he ran frantically, clearing a four foot fence as he jumped over. He removed the bean with Auntie's hair pin and then he spanked me, and who could blame him.
I was quite ill during my second year with Membranous Croup, a name all but forgotten in this year of 1954. A cold develops, then forming in the throat a phlegm develops, completely closing the passage into the windpipe. We were at my grandfather's house, six miles from a doctor. However, Dr. Miller drove out but thought nothing could be done. As he drove by the Honce's, he reported that I was dying. He had left cough syrup, but I could not swallow. My father holding me in his arms, directed my Aunt Lulu to give him the cough syrup. She remonstrated, saying, it would only choke me. My father answered that it was worth the trial, that I was dying anyway. As they forced the cough syrup down my through, I coughed, dislodged the phlegm, and was soon recuperating.
One day as preparations were being made for company dinner, I was told that my father was bringing for me a new mother. That was in the fall of 1882, when I was six years old. She was very pretty, had blue eyes, and blond hair. She wore a black silk dress and a long gold watch chain, also there was a shorter gold chain which was worn around the neck. The watch was tucked in a little pocket low on the basque. I wanted to sit by this new mother at the table and begged to go home with them that night. Whether other plans had been made I do not know, but I went. In a few days, I was desperately homesick for my grandmother. The only home I had known before, and when my father found me sobbing face down on the sofa, he straight-way hitched the team to the light wagon. How many times this had to be done, I am not that this writing able to say. I finally became oriented and the trips to my grandmother became more in the nature of visits.
One February 5th, 1883, a little brother was born. My brother was named William Frank. In June of _____ my Uncle John was married to Olive Honce. John had purchased 160 acres of land, four miles east of the home place, but continued to live in my grandfather's place (house), while they (the grandfather's) moved to Elvaston. No house was available to buy, so they rented a new house which had been built by John Cozad. The house still stands next the house now occupied by my brother Fred. My Aunt Alice had spent a winter with my Aunt Lulu in Palmyre, Mo., and had met a Mr. White of that community. When she came home in the spring, it was only to perfect her plans to marry Mr. White. Mama helped her with her clothes. Mamma sewed beautifully and Auntie spent some time with us after she and her parents were settled in the new home in Elvaston. Suddenly, she was taken ill with Spinal Meningitis and after a short time she died without regaining consciousness. Mr. White was sent for. My Uncle Willis who was connected with a Department in Davenport, Iowa, came. As he clasped me in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks, I knew the first great sorrow of my life. My Auntie was buried from the little church in Elvaston. Six young ladies of Auntie's acquaintance followed the hearse dressed in black and with black veils. Auntie was dressed in a purple and gold brocade, which she had never worn, as it was to have been part of her trousseau. Mr. White directed that the simple diamond and opal ring be left on her finger.
Mr. White and others went home and my dear grandparents were left to their sorrow and loneliness. Grandmother was not well. They had bought a house next to mamma's parents, the Kirkpatrick's and with a gate in the separating fence. Grandmother died there October 16th, 1889, and after this grandfather lived with his children and the family home was no more. Household effects were sold and my grandfather retained only bedroom furniture and bedding which had been planned for Aunt Alice's marriage and new home. Grandfather told me that when I was 18 years old, I was to have all of the things which had been Aunt Alice's for my home when I married. Doubtless he smiled that I did not think I would ever marry.
During my girlhood and growing-up, I attended the country school called District Number Nine. There was a red headed boy whose name was Lynn Campbell, who also lived on a farm and about my age, although I was from November to February older. We were in the same class in spelling; in fact, we were the only ones in it. I was at the head of the class and he at the foot, but in Arithmetic he was at the head while I was at the foot. It has been so ever since, at least as to Arithmetic. When we went to college our paths separated. He studied in Western Normal in Bushnell and I went to Palmyra, Mo., where my aunt, Mrs. George Hastings, lived, and attended a little (Methodist) Centenary College. It is not now and has not for many years been active. When we both returned to Elvaston, he to teach in the country schools, I think that we really saw each other for the first time. With his dark auburn and heavy hair, brown eyes and stature of six feet, I and others found him quite handsome.
We were married on February 14, 1900. The marriage ceremony in my father's house was very simple. I think that fifty of our relatives and friends were present. We stood and with us stood my sister Mabel and Winifred Von Segen in the large bay window of the long living room. My cousin, Pearl Mack, played the Wedding March. The night was clear. My sister Mabel and brother Frank were sad as we looked out of the upstairs windows in the dark. We had been very close, sharing in social activities and home life. The other children whom I loved very much were too young at that time to share actively in many of our parties, socials, etc.
When I heard the hoof beats of Peter, the gray buggy horse, on the bridge I knew that when Peter crossed that bridge again, we two would be man and wife. Lynn and I began housekeeping in a little cottage in Elvaston. My husband was in the employ of the W. C. Gunn Realty Co., selling land in Kansas. The company was located in Ft. Scott, Kansas.
In January 13, 1901, our first child was born. We named him Ronald Marshall Campbell, and in the year of 1902, when Ronald was fifteen months old, we moved to Uncle John's place in the country, where we were to spend the next eighteen years. Ronald was small for his age but was quite strong and very active. On January 17, 1903, another son was born. He was named James Franklin for his Grandfather Campbell (James M.) and for his Great Grandfather Harper (Franklin). Franklin was a good baby, more quite than Ronald and they had a large yard to play in.
In September of 1904, the 20th day, there came another little boy. We named him Donovan Lynn.
On March 16, 1908, came our daughter and her name was Dorothy May.
Incidents in the family life of the Campbell's as we lived on the Campbell Corner:
In reality, this was a 240 acre farm with at least ninety acres in cultivation at all times. We kept a man through the farming season. The first man, Ernest Allison was much older than Lynn and me. He was near sighted and the only thing that he hated to do was to pick the small cucumbers which we used for pickles. Nevertheless, he did it uncomplainingly. His concern for our welfare was always apparent. He had been taught by the Stewarts, who had taken him to rear when a small boy had taught him to work on their farm. His two half-brothers, Tom and Charlie, worked for us afterward. They were not of the sterling character that was Ernest, but worked conscientiously and industriously and were very fond of our little boys who followed them around, often annoyingly in the way.
One day when we had not lived too long on the Place, Tom was cutting wood, Ronald had climbed on top of a small shed. Tom had warned him that there were some rotten boards when suddenly he slipped on one and fell through onto a pile of coal. Tom picked him up and carried him in the house, informing me that he feared that Ronald's leg was broken. The family physician set the bone, put it in a cast and for our little boy there were several uncomfortable weeks with his leg in a cast. The leg mended normally and when the cast was removed my little sisters came up, put Ronald in a baby cart and wheeled him one and one-half miles to his grandmother's house.
Like most little boys, he was impressed with fire arms. Not yet able to walk, he wheeled himself around the large living room and with a small toy pistol shot at whatever came within his line of vision. Mamma had a rubber plant in the bay window. It was quite large and well leafed with the small rubber like leaves. Mamma found most of the leaves in the earth in the tub, with the rubber plant stripped. Ronald acknowledged that he had picked them one by one, also that he should not have done it. Mamma did not punish him and the rubber plant grew more leaves.
One very pleasant experience, some years later what when Ronald was about eight, the others six and four. Dorothy says that she can remember it so perhaps the boys were older. Their father had brought home a little wagon. We had a large farm wagon, which as I remember was a Bain. This small one was a replica of it, the removable bed, spring seat and all markings in green and red with running gear, just like the large one. It was so strong that when my cousin, Mrs. Pearl Swigert, came out to spend the day, the boys loved to put her on the seat and pull the wagon all around the blue grass lawn. We had two large silver maple trees, one at the northeast corner. These branches were so large that their branches almost covered the roof of the one and a half story house. My father bought us a two seated swing and with a hammock stretched from the corner of the house to this silver leafed tree, we enjoyed man happy hours. Our large blue grass lawn was kept trim by the boys with a rope attached to the mower, with one boy pulling and the other guiding by the handle. We had no electricity, but it was being introduced into the rural sections the year we left the farm in 1920.
In 1908 when our little daughter was born, the boys were engaged with the coughing spasms of that children's and sometimes adult's disease, infectious Whooping Cough. We were concerned about Dorothy. Would she or would she not contract this unpleasant and sometimes very serious ailment? When three weeks old she began to show symptoms of the cough. Only once did she cough so hard that I ran out onto the porch with her for air, and did as had been advised, shake her gently. She recovered quickly and the epidemic passed.
Among other things that happened to us, was a fire in which the barn, the carriage shed, and one little colt burned. Our driving horse was also in the barn. The maid, as I recall, her name was Pearl, ran to the stable with a sharp knife, cut the halter strap, and Dewey ran from the barn. When she looked for the colt, the burning straw was already dropping onto his back. My father had given me $100, and since we were a growing family and had need for a two seated vehicle, my husband added $50 to it and bought a handsome carriage. It was called cut-under style, and the seats were upholstered in blue broadcloth. Ronald and I tried to get the carriage out, but when we opened the carriage door, the draft drew the fire to the attached carriage house and since in our excitement we did not pull the tongue of the carriage straight, the hubs caught on the side of the opening and it burned in the door.
We were left with a single buggy and a two wheeled cart loaned us by Father Campbell. We replaced it with another carriage with leather seats, and it was not a "cut under" nor as comfortable.
In November, 1918, the Flu, so called (Influenza), persistent in the country, crept near out little home. Since the schools were closed, it was decided that Ronald should accompany his father to Chicago. While they were gone we were stricken at home, and Ronald in the YMCA Hotel in Chicago was taken ill. His visiting Physician advised that he be brought home since all the hospitals in Chicago were full. When put to bed at home, Ronald was no more ill that the others. Pneumonia developed and he died December 6, 1918. He was aged seventeen years and eleven months.
My father died with Broncho-Pneumonia just six days later in the hospital in Keokuk, Iowa. "They have gone beyond the mists that blind us here."
In the spring of 1920, we moved from the farm into the little town of Elvaston. We sold the Jackson car and bought a seven passenger Buick, and made preparations for the trip to Arizona. Lynn was still not well, and with our remaining three, we planned to find a home someplace in the West. In June of 1920, we left Elvaston by way of Oklahoma City, where we visited relatives, and set our course for Arizona. In late August, we arrived in Glendale, and finding houses difficult to rent, we took up housekeeping in a cottage owned by a Mr. Woods. We lived there the nine months the children were in school. Donovan was a Junior in high school and Franklin was in Park College, located in Parkville, Mo., a few miles out of Kansas City. In June of 1921 we set out for California, while Franklin went back to Illinois to stay with his uncles for the summer. We had thought of locating in the far west but made our way back to Oklahoma City, where lived my Uncle John Marshall and family and my Aunt Lulu Hasting and family.
We arrived in Oklahoma City in August, 1921, and lived there until May 1946, twenty-five years. During this time, our three children finished their educations. Franklin, Donovan and Dorothy graduated from Oklahoma City University, a Methodist University. Donovan had one year in Oklahoma A and M, an agricultural school. Franklin studied medicine in a Oklahoma University School of Medicine located in Norman and Oklahoma City. At that time the first two years were in Norman and the last two years in Oklahoma City. In 1929, the medical school was permanently located in Oklahoma City, across from the University Hospital on 13th Street. For the first year after his graduation in 1928, he interned in Parkland Hospital, Dallas, and the next year taught Anatomy in the Oklahoma Medical School. For the rest of Franklin's story, he will tell it as he lived it. But for my part, I will tell that we began reading in his letters home from Dallas, where he was an intern at Parkland Hospital, about a girl and her family. We could easily read that this particular girl occupied a special place in his life. One day we received a letter saying that he would like to bring Josephine (Jack) home with him. We were happy to have him do this. I think he had already announced that she was the woman in his life for him. Of course we were anxious to present ourselves in the best possible light to our future daughter. The only thing that I recall was seating her in the kitchen as I prepared the evening meal, wondering meanwhile, what we would use for conversation. We got along nicely and to my knowledge have done so ever since.
At this writing, their children James F. is a student at T.C.U. and is aged twenty-two, and Gail is a student at Randolph Macon College for Women at Lynchburg, Va. She is eighteen, a Freshman and a member of Kappa Alpha Theta Sorority. She graduated from Paschal High School a member of the Honor Society, in 1954 and was cum laude.
James had one year in Kemper Military Academy in Booneville, Missouri. He was not happy there, and we were all unhappy with him. James is a student.
Mabel Annette was born December 5, 1877. Our mother died December 14, 1877 and the little baby was given to our maternal grandparents to rear. The Doctor Harpers lived in Elvaston at that time, but later moved to Elderville, and we did not see much of them, since the driving distance was seven miles. However, when my father married again and I had come home to live, I often visited my grandparents and Mabel. When we were little girls, my grandfather had his office in their home, as did many physicians of that day. Even though doctors of medicine, they were often called upon to extract teeth, do minor surgery and obstetrics was a major part of their practice. When a patient came with an aching tooth and extraction was necessary, since there was no Novocain and especially in a child there would be crying, Mabel would get as far away as possible, running out of the house.
I loved to go to my grandparents home and visit my sister. One time after the wind storm which blew down tree limbs, our grandfather built out of the fallen limbs a play house, for Mabel and me. In their garden there was a melon patch, and Mabel and I would eat watermelons and cantaloupe in our tree house.
One time I was walking the top board of the painted board fence, carrying in my mouth a pencil that my grandfather had given me. I fell and the pencil pierced the roof of the mouth. Fortunately, I was near a doctor, but even he could not spare me the sore mouth which I had for several days.
When grandfather died in Elderville in 1887, Mabel was ten years old. She and grandmother came back to Elvaston to live in the old house and to be near grandmother's daughter Ella (Mack) and family. Also my father helped her financially in keeping Mabel, who continued to live with her until Mabel was ready for high school. A cousin, Mrs. Lulu Kirkpatrick, lived in Hamilton, Illinois, only five miles from Elvaston. Mabel went to board with the Kirkpatrick's while in High school, then having passed an examination to teach, with her certificate, applied for and got the Eagle School near our home. Therefore, she came home to live and rode the gray mare back and forth. So cold in the winter that she found her feet were frozen when she returned from school one cold day, for many years afterwards she would suffer from those frozen feet. She afterward taught at the Washington School on the Carthage-Hamilton highway. She boarded with the Choates who lived only a short way from the school. This was the fall and winter of 1903. We had an uncle in Monmouth and Mabel tried for and was hired to teach in the grade schools in Monmouth, meanwhile making her home with Uncle Willis and Aunt Cannie. Vera, their only child, was at the adolescent age.
For some time Mabel had had a desire to teach in schools for the deaf, and after two years in Monmouth, she went to Faribault, Minnesota to study, where was located the State School for the Deaf. Also the State School for the Blind and Institution for the Feebleminded; at least, it was called so at that time. Now, I think it would be called "mentally retarded."
I visited her several times while she was in Faribault. The countryside is beautiful in Minnesota. Once, I was there in maple syrup time. When all maple trees in large groves were tapped, a little funnel was inserted and through this devise flowed a solid stream of sweet liquid, which was later boiled down to sugar.
Around Faribault were numerous lakes, so clear and beautiful. Winters were cold, often below zero in temperature. One time as Mabel was walking to school, someone driving by shouted, "Rub some snow on your nose, it is freezing", or perhaps he only said, "It is white" which was an indication of freezing.
Mabel made many friends there, among them Dr. Tate, the Superintendent of the school. She taught the pupils who talked with their hands and Mabel was very expert at this. She always had a few who could enunciate audibly. I recall a pretty little brown eyed girl. She was so dainty with clear complexion, who could talk, but her voice was so unpleasant in tone that she preferred to use her hands.
Our father visited Mabel, and sat in the rear of the room. He sat with his feet up on the desk back. He shouldn't have, because the next morning one of Mabel's little boys put his feet up on the desk. My sister spoke in sign language, "Howard, do not do that". He answered, "Your father did". It had to explain that Father was an old man, so to be excused. One other time there was a discussion about Prayer. One boy said he prayed every night and morning. One boy objected, No, No, Pray at night, not in the morning. This conversation was by their hands.
One day, Mabel announced that she had lost her galoshes, and said, "If you find them, tell me". The children had a Donkey on the school grounds, who had wandered away. He was quite a pet and the children enjoyed him. So, one of the boys answered, "Miss Marshall, If you see the Donkey, tell me."
One year Mabel took her vacation in Europe. She visited Scotland. We are of Scotch-Irish descent and on the boat en route home she met a John Roderick Campbell, who had been in Scotland visiting his parents. He lived in Walkerville, Canada. He was a typical Scotchman and conducted a tailoring business in Walkerville, importing cloth from Scotland.
Mabel and Roderick were married in August, 1927, at our uncle's house in Monmouth. Uncle Willis, Aunt Carrie and Vera gave her a nice wedding. We were living in Oklahoma at the time, and only Dorothy attended the wedding. Mabel with the new husband went to Walkerville to live. She was desperately homesick and hoped that when Roderick retired, they might come back to Elvaston to live; the little village where we were all reared. However, she really liked Canada and made many friends in Walkerville, though she did not give up her American citizenship.
She and Roderick had twenty years together, until in November 1947, she died of a heart attack (Angina), from which she had suffered for many years. Her husband brought the body back to the little cemetery in Elvaston, where she lies beside the body of her mother, whom she never knew.
Roderick continued to live in the apartment they had shared. Mabel willed everything to him except her sterling silver flatware which she had given Dorothy several years before she died, and the some of $2500 each to brother Frank and cousin Nellie Mack. Roderick died September, 1954, after long years of invalidism in a hospital in Walkerville. I assume he is buried there beside his first wife with whom he lived for eleven years, and before he met Mabel.
It was a cold snowy day in February. I had been sent to the neighbors to spend the night, and as we, Sam McSurely and I walked down the road from Aunt Becky Clark's a half mile up the road (meaning north), I can still remember how the snow crunched under my feet, and as we walked, Sam discoursed on the "surprise" which was waiting for me. When I walked in the house, I was told I had a new baby brother. He was a darling baby, fat, and blue-eyed. He was named William Frank. The name William was for his father, William Harvey; and the name Frank was for my grandfather Harper of whom my step-mother was very fond, as was everyone who knew him.
Frank loved horses, and as he grew older, was given a horse of his own. His greatest ambition had been to own a fine horse. I recall one, a dappled gray, a high-stepper who would rear on his hind feet at the twitch of the reins, and another, a dark bay, slim like a weasel, who could open gates. Frank helped us on the farm (the Campbell farm) occasionally but if he left "Gail" out of the stall, each gate would have to be securely tied. It was the summer he was with us, that after free lancing with many of the desirable girls in the community, he fell violently in love with the daughter of one of our best families.
Her mother was a widow and since Mr. Chapman's death, Mrs. Chapman had capably managed a farm, milked cows, made the finest butter on the market, raised chickens, and her three children, Zella, Arch and blond blue eyed Flora.
When Arch was grown and perhaps wanted more land, Mrs. Chapman sold her attractive home and well kept farm and went west. She bought a farm near Wellington, Kansas. Frank followed in 1906, as he and Flora had been married August 6 of that year, traveling in a freight car with four horses, four little pigs and farm implements. He also had one hundred dollars. His father had bought 160 acres of land near South Haven, Kansas. Flora, like her mother, trained to be thrifty, lived happily in their little home and their first child Hollis, was born there, November first, 1907. They lived in Kansas one and one-half years, then hearing of government land to be opened to prospective buyers, Arch Chapman, Frank and Flora went to Kalispell, Montana for a year. But finding that reservation opening was being postponed, they journeyed to Burley, Idaho and bought relinquishments. Frank and Flora with son Hollis and little Myra who was born in Idaho, lived there for nine years. Then, they came back to Elvaston, bought a farm north of Elvaston and lived there for thirty years.
Frank was not well and went to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn. for diagnosis. After the examination, he was told that he had Creeping Paralysis, known by others as Multiple Sclerosis. The progress was so slow, it was not noticeable to others at first. In the meantime, Hollis was married to a fine girl, Mae Hempen and he and Mae took over the farm. Flora and Frank moved into Elvaston but by this time he was bedfast. After five years, most of it in a Keokuk Graham hospital, he died at the age of sixty-nine, on June, 1952.
Daughter Myra is married to a Reverend George Garris and lives in Merodosia, Illinois.
William Hollis Marshall died in the hospital in Carthage, Illinois, April 28, 1954 at the age of forty-five of a heart attack and left one son Karl William. As I write this in 1955, Mae and Karl William still live on the home place. Mae, lonely but brave; Karl William at the age when he likes to drive a car as his grandfather did a horse.
Flora lives in summer in her home in Elvaston, and in the winter with her daughter, Myra.
Mary Josephine was born at Elvaston, Ill., April 25, 1885. When she was a black eyed baby, we had neighbors by the name of Ridgley. Mrs. Ridgley was very fond of the bright eyed baby, said she looked like a little bird and began calling her, "Birdie." The name caught on, and I remember that I liked it as a child, but when I grew older, I liked the real name Mary better. However, Mary was called Birdie by everyone and she seemed to appreciate it. Her mother was born in Lima, Illinois and still had many relatives there, where Birdie often would visit. During one of her visits she met a young man by the name of Mark Crank. Their romance blossomed into matrimony. They were married as they stood in the bay window of the family home on February 8, 1911. Mark took his bride back to Lima where they lived and where their first child was born, a daughter named Geraldine. They later moved to a farm near Elvaston.
Their second child, a son was born in Elvaston. Robert grew to manhood in Carthage and married an Australian girl during World War II.
Birdie was united with the Elvaston Presbyterian Church when quite a young woman. Later, they moved to Warsaw where Mark worked with a firm of cattle buyers and Birdie united with the Methodist Church. Birdie had asked for and was given the large family Bible, which contained the family records of births, marriages and deaths. At this time, it included our parents, a baby sister and Jeannette. Birdie was distressed that the pulpit in this church had not been supplied with a large Bible with large print for the use of the church. (Correction - I am not sure as I have been told that this was a Presbyterian Church.) Since Birdie extracted the family records from the book, we, I, at the moment, have the records, but not the album part, with family portraits.
Mary (Birdie) with husband moved from Warsaw to Carthage where she spent her last years. (It is written between the lines that she joined the M. E. church in Carthage, ED)
Geraldine took nurses training, then married George Rainey. To them were born one son, Jimmie, twins who were girls, and another daughter who died with Polio when about seven years old. Geraldine now serves as trained nurse in St. Joseph's Hospital, Keokuk, Iowa.
Son, Robert, and his wife, an Australian, as mentioned above, have two little boys and live in Pontusic, Illinois. Both Robert and his father are employed in a defense plant in Burlington, Iowa.
Birdie suffered from Angina, a heart ailment, for several years and died quietly in her home September 7, 1953. "Her work is finished on the earth and her rewards are won. Nor should we weep or shed a tear. Because her work is done."
Frederick Lee Marshall was born on April 25, 1887, in the family home, one and one-half miles north of Elvaston, Illinois. He was a blue eyed baby and I remember vividly that one cold day, Mama had the cook stove very hot. In fact she was baking bread. This stove, coal burning, was not the kitchen range as we know, or as we had afterwards. The lower edge of the stove or rim was excessively hot. The baby, Fred, who was crawling on the floor, put his hands on this very hot ridge and his hands were cruelly burned. For weeks, he wore them swathed in bandages soaked in linseed oil, a home remedy and very effective. I think that a lotion of lime water was used also. To this day, his palms show scars of the ridges produced by these burns.
Fred was a rather precocious child, with a healthy curiosity inherited perhaps from our father, who was always interested in everything which went on around him. In the parlors of those days we had what was known as parlor suites, consisting of upholstered arm chairs, sofa, love seat and two single chairs. Fred liked to interview the young men who came to see me. Sometimes he would apprehend them on the porch, and at other times in the parlor. One time, I came downstairs to find him bouncing up and down on one of the upholstered and springy chairs, saying, "I know what you've come for. You want to take Ruby somewhere." We laughed and the said young man acknowledged the fact.
Fred's education consisted of eight years in the country school, high school in Carthage, and a course in Gem City Business College in Quincy, Illinois. He chose agriculture as his career and to join him in the country life, he asked a lovely girl, Wilma Rosa. She agreed and they were married in her country home in (I think, Sept. 11, 1911). I recall that brother Frank, Flora and son Hollis came for the wedding all the way from Idaho. It was a rainy Fall and very inconvenient for the Idaho relatives to visit. The only guests who attended in a car were Dr. and Mrs. Dorsey from Keokuk, friends of Wilma's and also her physician.
Born to them were two sons, William Lowell and Donald Lee. Wilma fought ill health practically all her life, but lived to see her sons grown and married, Lowell to a Keokuk girl, Bernice Thornton, and Donald to Edna Nichols. It was thought that the California climate might be beneficial, and she and Fred left Illinois, traveling overland in the fall of 1935. They came through Oklahoma City and visited us for a few days. The trip was not successful and on May 12, 1936, Wilma died at the home of her sister, Olga Williams, in California. I went to Elvaston for the funeral and remained with my brother for three weeks. Fred had bought the old family farm and home and now with only the two of us in the large nine room house, the wife and mother gone to her long rest, the rooms seemed empty indeed.
After a few years through which Fred carried on by himself, he sought the hand of a very fine and capable young lady, loved by all of us, and whose name was also Marshall, but not related. And Edna came in Feb. 24, 1938 to preside very graciously in the Marshall home. Her mother, Mrs. Ioa Marshall, a widow of many years lived with them and died in her daughter's home. Soon after that, Fred and Edna moved into Elvaston, when Donald took over the home place. In this year of 1955, they lived contentedly in the attractive cottage just one block from the church in which they both were reared and which has their entire devotion today.
Fred's two sons live respectively, Lowell in Plymouth, Illinois, where he and his father own and operate an implement store. Lowell married first to Bernice Thornton has five children, two by the first marriage; one daughter Barbara Anne and one son Jerry. Later he married Bernita Matthews, a widow, and they have three children, Lola Kay, Patricia and Freddie.
The other son lives on the home place, which he now owns. To Donald and Edna were born two children, Sonya and Stephen. The old Marshall house has been improved and beautifully kept by its present owners. Donald has modernized the house in many ways. The bay windows, the scene of three weddings, has been removed and the parlor is now a library. The white picket fence which graced the front lawn is long gone.
Paul Harvey Marshall, son of Harvey and Ella Kirkpatrick Marshall, was born in the family north of Elvaston, Illinois, a village of perhaps three hundred people, on February 14, 1889. He was a beautiful brown eyed baby and I recall that I was delayed in my uncle's home one time when Paul was about ten months old. Uncle John and Aunt Ollie had lost their first son with Scarlet Fever. Since this disease is considered very contagious, I was supposed to contract it and could not go home to the other children until proper time had elapsed. Mama always kept the babies in light colored dresses. Yes, in those days, all babies wore little frocks. When I came in the door, I saw Paul dressed in a little blue print. He apparently was as delighted as I and it was a most happy moment.
When Paul was perhaps two and one-half years old, I dressed him up for a party we were having that night and since I wanted him to look very attractive, I used the curling iron on his very straight hair. He was not much interested in company and curled up on the sofa in the living room and went to sleep. When we came into the same room to play floor games, the living room being a large room, I think 18 by 22 feet, with bay windows, a young man, Frank Rohrbaugh, sat down on the sofa. Immediately, there was a chorus of exclamations, "Don't, little Paul is asleep." Frank felt hurt that they should suspect him of such behavior, retorted, "I was not going to sit on the child."
Paul was educated in the country school and went to high school in Carthage. There was no high school in Elvaston then or for many years thereafter. In 1916, we found that Paul was in love (she has it capitalized). The attractive young woman, Aurelia Starr Martin, reciprocated, and they were married in the Martin home in 1916, and went to house-keeping in the family home. Father and Jeanette had taken up residence in Hamilton.
They were an attractive and happy couple. In November 29, 1918, a son was born, Leonard Paul, in the Graham Hospital in Keokuk. He had big shiny black eyes and grew up in the country home and schools until 1927, when Paul and Aurelia moved to Carthage occupying the Martin home with Mrs. Martin, who was now widowed. Leonard continued his education in the city schools. Like all normal boys, he collected bottles of all kinds. His mother was distressed at seeing the whiskey bottles sitting on her dining table. Eventually they were deposited in a cabinet in Leonard's room and when the phase passed, all went into discard. Then, it was airplanes. I was given his room one night and slept with airplanes sweeping the ceiling as they hung above my bed. That phase passed but I wonder it if was prophetic.
Leonard graduated from Carthage High School in 1936 and entered Carthage College and attended for one year. He transferred to the University of Iowa in the fall of 1937 and attended three years, graduating in 1940. He majored in Dramatic Art. He took some lessons in civilian flying and enlisted in the Army Air Force before he graduated from college. He was called into service November 27, 1940 and was sent to Tulsa, Okla., for his training. Later, he was transferred to Randolph Field and Brooks Field in Texas and was commissioned a Second Lieutenant in July 1941, and from there to March Field in California. He was there when Pearl Harbor happened.
During this time, he had met Betty Royce Nelson and they were married on March 14, 1942. They lived in Coronado, California, until Leonard was sent over-seas in December 1942. Diana Lynn was born February 5, 1943. Leonard was stationed in England from December 1942 to April 1945. He was in the Service a total of three years and five months.
He was commissioned Major in January 1945 and Lt. Colonel on April 6, 1945. Had he lived, a commission of full Colonel was promised him in the near future. He flew a pursuit plane and made 143 missions from England over Germany, his last mission, April 21, 1945. His body was sent home, reaching home (Carthage) in July 1947. He was laid to rest at sunset in the family plot in Mossridge Cemetery. "Sunset and evening star." He would have said, "no moaning at the bar" to his parents and friends, but the great loss to them, to the wife and baby cannot be ignored.
At this writing, Paul and Aurelia live in Carthage. Paul with his work and his memories, Aurelia filling her days with worth while activities; her church and women's society of Christian service. She also is Secretary of Division of Red Cross. Mother Martin is a much loved member of the family, and quite active in home and church at the age of eighty-four.
Geraldine was born in the family home north of Elvaston on July 20, 1891. She was born prematurely at seven months, instead of waiting the required nine months, therefore weighing less than three pounds. She was so small, she had to be carried on a pillow, took small amounts of nourishment at a time, but had to be fed often. She was a good baby and slept a great deal during the two months. She had blue eyes and blond curly hair.
When she was three months of age, we all came down with the Measles. The only way we could tell that baby Geraldine had the Measles was that some spots on her scalp were discerned through her fine little curls. She seemed not to be ill at all.
Geraldine was an outdoor girl. She loved horses and when Father wanted the horse and buggy, Geraldine had them ready. Old Joe was the buggy horse and was a pretty horse with a white stripe down his forehead. We from our home, one and one-half miles north, could recognize Joe, while they, various members of the family, were quite a ways down the road. Geraldine, as were we all, was fond of riding horseback. There were two side saddles in the barn and a little gray mare who was an ideal riding horse.
On December 20, 1911, Geraldine married Harry L. Burling of near Ferris, a fine upstanding young man. Together, they were a very attractive couple, and established their home in a little cottage near the Burling homestead of Harry's mother and father. Later they moved to a house practically across the road from the parents. Marshall was born there. Later, Harry bought eighty acres on the road north of McCall school, but still near the old homestead.
They still live there at this writing (1955) and have made of it a very pleasant home. Harry was stricken with a cerebral hemorrhage in 1953 or 1954. He is improved enough at this writing to drive his car, and can talk better, although still with some difficulty. Their three children:
P.S. Our son Donovan loved to stay with his aunty and uncle and could walk the distance. Auntie (Geraldine) was noted for her candy making and HE enjoyed that. When we left the farm in 1920, Harry took our old driving horse, Dewey, and let him spend his last days in their pasture.
Jeanette was born on March 29, 1892 at the family home north of Elvaston. She was a brown eyed baby, with a clear complexion and fair, with blond curly hair. She was the last of the eight children to be born in the old house; the new house being built just north of it was already under way.
Jeanette was a good baby and because she was good and because mama had so much to do, the baby lay in her crib with her face more on one side than the other so long at a time that before we knew it, one side became filled out more than the other. It was very distressing, and even though we were assured that she would outgrow it, we were still greatly concerned.
Of the many maids (they were called hired girls in the country), the one that I liked best was Mary Peters. We boarded the carpenters since they lived in Hamilton and the six miles was too much to attempt every day in a buggy. I recall getting out of bed with Mary, often before daybreak, and helping with the breakfast. We would always grind the coffee which we would then boil in a large tin coffee pot in a wood or coal burning stove.
We were happy when our new two story eight room house was finished and we had moved from the five room cottage and summer kitchen in the fall of 1892. The house much later was remodeled by adding a kitchen, the old kitchen then being used as a dining room. It was nice indeed.
Jeanette grew into a very attractive girl. She and Geraldine with their golden curls, one blue-eyed, the other with brown eyes, were so pretty and sweet, I loved to take them with me as I drove into town or visiting the neighbors. One winter, they were dressed in eider down coats. One was blue, the other tan with brown camel hair trim. The camel hair was a little like the long monkey fur except that the camel hair was a light tan or white and not quite as fine as the monkey fur. The little girls were really pretty and admired wherever we went.
Jeanette was educated in the country school, with one year in a Catholic Convent in Quincy. As attractive in young womanhood, as in childhood, she married Fred Thomas of Hamilton, Illinois, November 17, 1918. They lived in Hamilton for awhile, but afterwards lived in Kansas City, Mo., where we visited them. Dorothy and I, in 1925, and later Lynn and I in their pleasant bungalow on Cherry Street. The house was attractive inside and out and scrupulously clean, as one would easily anticipate, knowing Jeanette's habits of neatness. After meals, when the tea kettle would not be needed until the next meal, it was hung in the basement stairway and it was an attractive tea kettle, too. However the otherwise neat kitchen was neater without it.
On January 22, 1932, Brother Paul received a telegram from Kansas City. It said, "Come at once, Jeanette seriously ill." Brother Paul, Aurelia, his wife, and sisters Birdie and Geraldine left Carthage, driving through the night and arrived in Kansas City the next day. They found the little cottage in confusion. A sister of Fred Thomas had arrived, Eulalie Thomas, but paid no attention to the house. There was no food, and the brothers and sisters, after finding a place to eat, went on to the hospital. They were only allowed to look in the door of the room.
Editor's Note:
The story of Jeanette ended above as far as I could tell by the notes in
her book. Jeanette did not survive the above illness. I can remember that the
family was quite disturbed because no one would tell them the nature of her
illness, and we assumed that they did not know. She died January 22, 1932, and
is buried in the Elvaston Cemetery beside her parents in the family plot.